


Haunting or Hoax

by WandersUnderStarlight



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Haunted Houses, M/M, ghost au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27298294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandersUnderStarlight/pseuds/WandersUnderStarlight
Summary: Rodimus, Prowl, Jazz, Hound, Rewind and Chromedome are ghost hunters. But their newest case gets a little personal.
Relationships: Chromedome/Rewind (Transformers), Hound/Mirage (Transformers), Jazz/Prowl, OC/OC
Comments: 19
Kudos: 96
Collections: Good Shit To Read Again AKA GSTRA, Suggested Good Reads





	Haunting or Hoax

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!

Mirage was about ready to throw his servos up in defeat. He’d inherited this ancient mansion, Moonstone House, from a distant, estranged relative through some strange twist of family lines. He’d been just as surprised as everybot else when he’d received the message that he was now the owner of a small estate on the outskirts of Altihex. 

Not that anybot in the family had particularly fought him for it.

It was far away from the glittering and imposing Towers where the majority of his family lived. His siblings questioned why he would want to live so far from all the politics and drama, but to Mirage, the inheritance seemed like a blessing from Primus that he’d been praying for. He was thoroughly tired of his restrictive life. He’d made the excuse that he, surely, needed to at least view and appraise this property that was now his. Meanwhile, he silently began to plan. 

A project like this would keep him away from court life for a while. Certainly it would be a “distraction” to escape his creators’ constant badgering to bond. He couldn’t be paraded around in front of potential bondmates if he was out on the edges of Altihex, after all. And none but the most determined suitors would bother to make such a long trip.

He packed quickly and made the trip.

And when he’d seen the house he’d been delighted by the thought of owning a place that looked so grand. Though, strangely it had been several hundred vorns since anybot had actually lived in it. The house and grounds had been kept in good repair by the bots that owned it, even if it had been uninhabited.

There were some improvements and modernizations the Mirage wanted to make, of course, and he’d started planning the moment he’d walked through the stately doors. The house would need to be thoroughly renovated and the old antiques and trappings of the previous residents moved to storage, but on the whole, Mirage had been very pleased with his new accommodations when he’d moved in.

The feeling had lasted until the first dark-cycle he spent in his new home.

That’s when the sourceless screaming had started.

He’d called for the Enforcers. They’d looked for intruders. They’d found none.

Mirage had done some digging into the estate’s past. Apparently, the property had long been thought to be cursed by the inhabitants of the nearby towns. Stories about the house had been passed down by the older generations, becoming local lore. 

At first Mirage had scoffed at the stories, but…

He couldn’t deny what he was experiencing with his own sensors.

Things moving on their own. Cold spots everywhere. The stench of rust and mech-blood. And every few cycles, the screaming echoed through the halls. Desperate, spark-wrenching and hopeless.

He didn’t call the Enforcers again. They couldn’t help.

Mirage started to look into other options, remembering his grand-carrier’s ghost stories.

He finally stumbled across a datanet show that dealt with problems like his. After nearly two orns of strange happenings, Mirage only felt slightly silly for following the link to their Contact Us page and filling out the detailed “Want us to investigate your haunted house?” application form. As it was, he almost didn’t send it, but the otherworldly wailing started up again at that very moment. 

He hit send.

Hopefully the bots that ran “Haunting or Hoax” could actually help.

“Call everybot, we have another case guys!” Rodimus announced as he slammed the door of the office open.

“Must you insist on doing that every time you enter?” Prowl asked from his desk with an irritated sensor panel flick. “The landlord said the next time you put a hole in the wall, she is not paying for it.”

The flame colored mech shrugged, “It’s not my fault Windblade is a wet blanket, but that doesn’t matter because: CASE!” He struck a dramatic pose.

From his own desk across the room from Prowl, Jazz chuckled, “A’ight, gimmie a klik.” The visored mech quickly sent out a message to the other bots on their small team. “Now, wha’s got yar spoiler up?”

“I’ll explain as soon as the rest of the crew gets here! It’s a big one!” He made a grand gesture with his arms and sailed past their desks to his own at the back of the room.

Jazz and Prowl exchanged a knowing look across the room at the antics of their “fearless leader”, accustomed to Rodimus’ high energy.

The energetic young mech had had a rough upbringing as an orphan in Rodion, but had managed to get placed in a loving foster family in Iacon that then adopted him. He’d come out of his younglinghood as a headstrong and optimistic go-getter, which is how the whole show had gotten started. Rodimus had been interested in ghosts from a young age and had experienced multiple otherworldly encounters. So he’d started by himself with a single camera, going into decrepit buildings that were supposedly haunted. He’d racked up a few trespassing violations doing it, but it was how he’d met Prowl.

Prowl had been a young intern at the Enforcer precinct when Rodimus had been brought in for the nth time. They’d had a conversation while Rodimus was waiting in the precinct’s lobby. Because Rodimus’ adopted sire just so happened to be one of the Enforcers, himself. Optimus was very good projecting Very Disappointed Creator ™. After listening (and flinching along with the flame colored mech) to the lecture Optimus had heaped upon his adopted progeny, it was Prowl who had suggested Rodimus try to go legitimate with his project. He hadn’t known at the time that he would get dragged into it.

Prowl sighed and began to put the research he was working on in an acceptable order to put aside. It was inevitable that with a new case, Prowl was going to have to start a new file for whatever information they needed to gather. It was his job, after all as H.O.H’s researcher/ historian/ resident skeptic. 

Jazz just chuckled and saved the document he was working on; probably a message to a fan. After Rodimus, Jazz was the fan favorite of the show. He was also the newest member of the crew, though he’d already been with them for nearly half a vorn. As the resident medium, he garnered a lot of the run time of the show when he “reached out to the other side” during a case. And, strangely, his fans were also drawn to his tragic backstory. Jazz had gained the ability to see and communicate with ghosts after his twin had died when they were young.

He was wrapped up in the black, beaded shawl that he always wore. A side effect of allowing himself to be a spiritual conduit was that he was constantly cold; the spirits pulling on his own energy to communicate, messing with his ability to regulate his own body temperature.

Prowl and Jazz were often in shots together because Prowl was the rational processor to Jazz’s spiritualism. 

Many of their fans had noticed (and commented) their chemistry. Prowl had never gotten so much unsolicited romantic advice in his functioning. It wasn’t like Jazz hadn’t made flirtatious overtures. He had invited Prowl out for energon when he’d begun working with the show, though Prowl had demurred. And it wasn’t like he disliked Jazz (he liked him quite a lot actually), but he’d already had a large portion of his love life dragged out into the public optic.

And speaking of, two more of their crew entered the office. They waved to Prowl and Jazz as they went to their joint desk/editing station. Chromedome and Rewind were their tech specialists. Chromedome managed all of their sound equipment and Rewind, well, his alt mode was a camera so his job had been clear from the start. The two of them also did a majority of the editing, but everybot on the team was involved in the process in some way.

Rewind spoke up, “Should we start recording now and just cut out dead time later?”

“Yep!” Rodimus said excitedly, popping the p sound.

Back in the beginning of the show it had been just Rodimus, Prowl and Chromedome. Prowl and Chromedome had started dating, but it had been rocky from the start. Sometimes it had been impossible to cut out their bickering and squabbles from the footage, and a lot of their fans commented on their relationship just as much as the evidence they collected.

Adding Hound, who had yet to arrive, had helped the group dynamic, but then Chromedome had cheated on Prowl. 

Prowl had found out at the worst possible time (when they were filming a live special) and blown up at Chromedome about it. All of the Pit had broken loose amongst the fans. Most took Prowl’s side, some took Chromedome’s; nasty things were said on both sides. The show had just about crumbled then and there. 

But somehow, during a six-orn hiatus, Rodimus had done some sort of magical fast talking and called in Optimus to do some pseudo-therapy to get Prowl and Chromedome to face each other and come clean (off camera, thankfully). They’d come away from it realizing that they probably shouldn’t have dated in the first place and made far better coworkers than lovers. Really, their entire relationship had been based on snark.

They’d released a small interview with the two of them assuring their fans that the show would continue, and they would both be continuing with it, but that they were no longer in a relationship.

Though some of the fans were skeptical of the announcement, it was cemented when Rewind began working on the show as their official camera bot, and he hit it off with Chromedome. There were so many disparaging comments about Chromedome’s fidelity when it came out that they had begun dating that Prowl actually felt sorry for him.

Rewind didn’t let the comments bother him, always giving Chromedome the benefit of the doubt. They seemed to be good for each other. He was a bright and optimistic minibot cassette and he got along wonderfully with Rodimus and the other members of the team. It was even because of him that Jazz eventually joined the team; the visored mech being an amica to Rewind’s Host mech, Blaster.

But after all of that, Prowl was a little wary of starting another relationship with a member of the show. Jazz, at least, seemed to understand Prowl’s hesitance and settled into a warm friendship with Prowl that the Praxian treasured above almost anything else. Even if that meant shoving down that part of his spark that wanted more.

About twenty breems later the door opened again. “Sorry, came as fast as I could, but I was volunteering at the mecha-animal shelter.” The green mech that entered said cheerfully.

“Ya ain’t late, Hound.” Jazz said. “Rodimus called everybot ‘ere on short notice.”

Hound just smiled. He went to his desk which was quite a bit less cluttered that everyone else’s, even Prowl’s, but that was normal. As a psychometrist, or an “object medium”, Hound could sense what he called “echoes” off of spiritually charged objects. He tended to keep his space clean and do ritual cleansings with oil once an orn to keep his space free of distractions.

“So Rodimus, what is this new case you have for us?” Prowl asked, acutely aware of Rewind recording.

“This is a big one bots! We…” Rodimus paused for dramatic effect, “get to investigate a haunted mansion!”

After a deca-cycle of prep, the trip to Moonstone House took a transport ride to the city of Altihex and then a long drive out to the outskirts. Rodimus was chattering excitedly with Jazz and Hound, and Rewind was riding in Chromedome’s alt mode recording away, which left Prowl to go over the virtual documents in his processor. Prowl had compiled a report of sightings and experiences in the deca-cycle before they left Iacon. Sounds, cold spots, vertigo, feelings of dread and actual sightings of spectres. Most of the information was from a few generations ago. Apparently, after a certain point in time, bots just sort of stopped living there.

It was Prowl’s job to look for rational explanations. Most bots believed in the supernatural, and they’d even caught more than one instance of proof themselves, but not everything that seemed like a haunting actually was. That was the premise of the show, after all. 

Sounds could be the house settling or the wind. Cold spots might be bad ventilation. Vertigo and strange feelings could indicate the presence of dangerous chemicals in the home.

Either they would find evidence of a true haunting or they would figure out what the normal explanation of the experiences were. Haunting… or Hoax.

It was nearing the beginning of the dark-cycle when they finally arrived. Rodimus let out a honk of excitement as the trees broke and they caught sight of their destination. The Moonstone House sat on the edge of a ragged precipice. The front of the impressive structure hosted a neatly manicured lawn of tin-grass and a paved drive. The paint on the outer walls was neat, but faded. Around the sides of the house the ancient crystal trees had grown up as tall as the structure with spindling, twisting branches. The back of the building faced the magnificent vista of the craggy mountains that Altihex was known for. Balconies set over expanses of nothing so as not to impede the view. 

All in all, it looked exactly like what a bot might expect a haunted mansion to look like.

Rodimus transformed as soon as he got close enough and then waited impatiently for the others to follow suit. Once they were all on their pedes, Rodimus walked up the front steps and enthusiastically thumped the large ornate door-knocker down three times to announce their presence. Rewind stepped back a bit and looked around, taking some footage of the impressive edifice. 

After a few breems, the great front door opened slowly and a sleek blue and white mech looked out at them.

The flame-patterned mech flashed a brilliant smile. “Hi, I’m Rodimus. Are you Mirage? We spoke on the comm.”

“Ah, yes. Nice to meet you in person.” The words were said pleasantly enough in a pretty Towers lilt, but the mech who spoke them gave a small, tight smile. He looked tired. “Please come in. I’ve cleared space in the library for you to set up your equipment.”

As they walked into the front hall, Rodimus spoke again,“Thanks! So, let me introduce you to the rest of the crew.” He pointed to each mech in turn. “This is Hound, Prowl, Chromedome, Rewind and Jazz…? Jazz?”

Rodimus stopped when he realized that the visored mech wasn’t with the group. The mech had stopped in the front hall, looking around himself, frowning. He’d pulled his shawl around his shoulders tightly and seemed to not have heard Rodimus calling him.

Prowl stepped back to him and gently placed a servo on his arm. “Jazz?”

The mech startled and looked up into Prowl’s optics.

The visored mech’s plating was cold under Prowl’s servo. “You’re freezing.” Prowl said with concern.

Before Jazz could respond Rodimus asked excitedly, “Are you sensing something?” 

“...Somethin’.” Jazz confirmed, looking troubled. He let Prowl lead him forward further into the house after a moment more of hesitation. 

They made their way through the drafty, echoey halls to the cosier library. It was still a large room, but the walls had been covered with intricate mesh tapestries embroidered with pastoral scenes, muffling some of the reverberating sounds. Furniture had been pushed to the walls in front of the in-built bookshelves leaving a sizable space open in the middle of the room.

“Will this work for your… base camp, I believe you called it?” Mirage asked, gesturing around vaguely at the room.

Rodimus nodded enthusiastically. “This will be great!” He abruptly switched to business. “So, after we get everything set up, we’d like to go to the different spots in your home where you’ve experienced the most amount of activity, just to get a lay of the land, if you will. We’ll set up cameras in the significant places. Then we’ll split up and do some recording sessions in different rooms. Everybot will get their own personal shoulder camera as well. Don’t worry, they're really light and small. As I explained on the comm, we’ll want you to give some history of the house for the beginning of the show. We can either do that in the library or a different room, whatever you want. Oh, and you’ll get to approve the final cut of the show, of course.” He motioned Hound over. “Then we’ll need you to stick with Hound while he’s wandering around so he doesn’t accidentally touch something he’s not supposed to.”

Hound smiled sheepishly with slight embarrassment blushing through his field.

Mirage gave another wan smile, but this time it seemed a bit brighter and warmer. “Oh? There seems to be a story there.”

Hound bashfully rubbed the back of his helm with a self-depreciating chuckle. “Eh, I kinda zone out when I’m looking at an echo. Sorta like a trance? And I may have come to once cradling an heirloom vase like a sparkling. The homeowner… wasn’t pleased.”

Mirage laughed quietly, but it wasn’t mean-sounding. “Oh dear.”

As Rodimus continued to explain their plans for the evening, Prowl, Chromedome and Rewind began unpacking their subspaces and setting up their tables and equipment. Rewind went around and affixed the little shoulder mounted cameras to each bot. As soon as they had a workable surface, Prowl began laying out the research (some provided by Mirage), datapads and flimsies placed in neat stacks. He looked up when he’d arranged everything to his liking and caught sight of Jazz staring blankly out of a window. He frowned, Jazz had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since they’d arrived at Moonstone House.

“Jazz.” He called.

The visored mech looked over at him. “Yeah, Prowler?”

Prowl had to stop his doorwings from drooping in relief. That sounded like normal Jazz.

“Everything alright?”

Jazz shrugged. “Not really. There’s a… malaise ‘ere. Everything feels ‘eavy. Like it’s ‘ard t’ vent.” He paused at the concerned look on Prowl’s face and then walked over to lay a servo on Prowl’s arm. He offered an unconvincing smile. “Aw, don’ worry ‘bout me. I’ll be a’ight.”

Out of the corner of his optic, Prowl caught sight of Rewind watching them and inwardly winced at the knowledge that a version of this conversation was going to end up in the show. It would, undoubtedly, fuel even more comments from their fans.

Fortunately, the moment between them was broken by Rodimus.

“So! Now that we’re set up… tour?” He looked hopefully at Mirage.

The white and blue mech nodded. “Of course. The first place is actually the front hall.” He headed out of the door with the crew in tow. Chromedome was already carrying his boom mike with his recording equipment attached to his chassis and Rewind had his remote camera drones following him. 

Mirage spoke again as they walked, “I’m not surprised that you stopped there, Jazz was it?”

The visored mech nodded.

Mirage continued, “I often feel vertigo when standing in the hall.”

“We should set up some chemical sensors in there as well, then.” Prowl said. “Just in case.”

“Good idea.” Rodimus agreed.

“Chemical sensors? Mirage asked curiously.

“As our resident skeptic,” Rodimus said with a grin for the camera-bot, “it’s Prowl’s job to eliminate rational explanations for experiences.”

“There are many chemicals that can cause vertigo.” Prowl explained. “If we detect something like that it will both explain the feelings and make your home safer.”

Mirage smiled, “I see.”

They waited patiently as Rewind set up a couple of remote cameras and Prowl plugged in his chemical sensor in the front hall. Then the group followed Mirage up the stairs to the set of rooms that made up the master suite. The room tasted of stale air and it was very obvious from the furnishings that the blue and white mech had not used this room to recharge in.

“I can’t get comfortable in here.” Mirage admitted. “It always feels like…”

“Like ya’re bein’ watched.” Jazz finished for him. The visored mech was gazing about the room, that same distant look on his visor.

“Yes.” Mirage said with what sounded like a relieved sigh. Perhaps comforted that somebot seemed to believe him.

Even Prowl, the most rational among them, couldn’t help but agree. His doorwings prickling with the weight of invisible optics.

Rewind was in the middle of setting up his cameras when the quiet of the house was shattered by a spark-wrenching, echoing scream of pain and misery.

“What the frag!?” Rodimus yelped.

Mirage clasped his servos over his audials. “It’s happening again.” He whispered with a pained whimper. Hound made as if to put his servo on Mirage’s shoulder, but he hesitated, unsure if the mech would welcome the touch and ended up standing close with his servos hovering in the air near Mirage’s shoulder pauldrons sort of helplessly.

Another spectral scream sounded.

Rodimus’ optics hardened with resolve. “Come on! Let’s find out where it’s coming from!”

A half dozen reasons why that would be a bad idea lined up for Prowl to say, but before he could get out any of them, Rodimus was sprinting out of the door. And Jazz was just behind him. With a bitten off curse, Prowl followed.

Not wanting to be left behind, or perhaps wanting to feel like they were doing something, the rest of the group followed.

They rushed up another set of stairs, following Rodimus, who was following the sounds. The dash ended when Rodimus threw open a set of double doors that led out onto one of the many balconies. A sourceless scream reverberated from the outer walls. The smell of rust was so overpowering it was enough to gag on.

Jazz pulled up short, visor going glassy as he stared at the edge of the balcony in horror. “Don’.” He whispered. Jazz’s servo raised, as if reaching for something. 

One more wail rang through their audials before cutting off abruptly. Jazz flinched and pulled his shawl more tightly around his shoulders, turning his helm away from the edge of the balcony with a pained look on his faceplates. He shuddered.

Prowl slowly put a gentle servo on his back so as not to startle him.

“You alright, Jazz?” Rodimus asked worriedly.

“...I’ve been better.”

“What are you feeling?” Hound queried softly.

“Pain. Hopelessness. Sorrow.” He shuddered again. “Madness.”

“You saw something too, didn’t you?” Rodimus guessed, excitement warring with concern.

“Yeah…” Jazz was silent for a few kliks. “‘E… ‘e threw ‘imself off th’ edge… ‘S kinda unsettlin’ when ya see spirits tha’ share yar frame type.”

“Oh.” Rodimus said, uncomprehending. Then, “Ohhhh…” As the realization sunk in.

There was a short, awkward silence.

“I may know who that was, then.” Mirage said unexpectedly, voice sounding thin.

“Really?” Rodimus said, surprised.

“It’s in the documents I sent.”

“Ah,” Prowl spoke up, “yes, I remember reading about the incident that took place here in the information you sent us.”

“Incident?” Jazz asked. He and Hound both often went into a case cold, not wanting to be influenced beforehand.

Prowl frowned. “Several thousand vorns ago, there was a murder/suicide comitted here.”

“If we might move to the sitting room, I can tell you some of the mansion’s history now.” Mirage said, casting a wary glance to the edge of the balcony.

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Rodimus agreed.

They gathered back in the library and pulled some of the chairs together. Darkness had fallen outside of the big windows, the dark-cycle truly begun. Rewind got set up at a good angle to capture the group. Rodimus said a little bit of an intro. They were never sure what was going to be left in and what would be cut from the final show.

Mirage spoke softly, but precisely. “I found this story while doing research into the history of this place. There was a mech named Meister of Moonstone. The Moonstone family owned the estate before my family. Meister lived here on his own after his creators deactivated in an accident when he was young and he had no siblings. He had an amica named Chase. They were inseparable, to begin with, but then Chase was betrothed to a femme that they both loved and Meister was consumed with jealousy. He stabbed Chase, in the front hall, and Chase deactivated. When he realized what he’d done, Meister was consumed with guilt and fear and, rather than face the consequences of his actions, he committed suicide by throwing himself off the balcony. It took cycles before they found his corpse at the bottom of the ravine.”

Jazz frowned. Something about that story didn’t _feel_ right, but he couldn’t say why. Something nagged at the edges of his awareness, almost as if he were hearing a far off cry of denial.

“That was what was assumed to have happened.” Prowl said, once Mirage had fallen silent. “That’s what their evidence pointed to, but… it was thousands of vorns ago and there were no witnesses.” There was still some of that Enforcer training in him.

“So, you think that’s our ghost?” Rodimus asked.

Mirage seemed to consider his next words carefully. “Well, Meister did have a very similar frame to Jazz. Here. Here is a picture of him.” He scrolled through a datapad momentarily and then showed it to them.

“Oh wow, yeah, he looks like you, Jazz, but in black and gold.” Rodimus said.

“And… there’s something else.” Mirage said after a pause of hesitation. “I didn’t think about it before, but _this_ is a picture of Chase.”

There was silence for a good three kliks.

“Whoa,” Chromedome muttered, “that is a dead ringer for Prowl. Right down to the expression on his faceplates.”

Prowl looked slightly perturbed.

“Okay!” Rodimus said clapping his servos together to cover the sudden sense of unease among them. “I’ll help Rewind get the rest of the cameras up and film some establishing shots and b-roll. Hound, if you’ll take a walk around with Mirage to see if anything tugs at you. Jazz, I trust you to find a good spot to do your communication thing. Prowl, do your detective thing and try to debunk us. Chromedome, keep an optic on base camp, yeah?”

Jazz adjusted his shawl, looking uncomfortable. “I think I’ll set up in th’ master suite. Prowl… I don’ normally ask this, bu’ coul’ ya maybe keep an optic on me while I’m doin’ my thing?”

“Do you feel unsafe?” Prowl asked with concern.

Jazz shook his helm. “Nah, I jus’... woul’ feel better knowin’ yar lookin’ after me.”

Prowl felt a flush of pleasure mixed with worry. “Alright. I’ll come up to check in on you, too, in a little while.”

“Thanks, mech.” Jazz said with a slight sigh.

Mirage walked around the first floor with Hound. The green mech wasn’t taking any sort of direct route, and so they were just sort of wandering. Not that Mirage minded too much. He’d gotten Hound talking about his volunteering at his local mecha-animal rescue shelter and he found himself charmed by the green mech’s innocent enthusiasm. So much so that Mirage found himself telling Hound about his younglinghood pet, a turbo-fox he’d named Gidget.

Hound had been in the middle of telling a story of a turbo-fox kit that was at the rescue shelter when he trailed off. They were in one of the halls, passing by a display case. Hound stopped talking, optics riveted to one of the objects in the case.

Mirage followed his gaze and caught sight of an old ornate dagger just as Hound reached for it.

Hound felt compelled to touch the old dagger. It was like a whisper in his audial, inviting him to know its secrets. He touched the handle.

_The world was fuzzy around the edges._

_Hound heard somebot yelling down the hall. He turned, slowly. It felt like he was moving through oil._

_The front hall. It was coming from the front hall._

_He walked closer, closer. Two voices. One wild and ragged. The other cold._

_“How could you do this to me?! You promised me-!”_

_“Those were the promises of younglings. It is time to grow up and act according to our stations. I am to be bonded.”_

_Two mechs. For a moment Hound jolted. Jazz and Prowl? No, not them..._

_“Liar! Oathbreaker!” The mech that looked similar to Jazz snarled._

_The Prowl look-a-like frowned stonily. “This conversation is over. Goodbye, Meister. I will not be returning.”_

_The doorwinged mech turned away to leave._

_Hound’s vocalizer caught in his throat. Meister had drawn a dagger_ (the dagger), _visor incandescent with rage and betrayal._

_“Chase!” The doorwinged mech turned back… and was met with a blade driven through his chestplates. His optics flared, then went dark, mouth open in a silent scream as his spark extinguished. Meister yanked the dagger free.  
Chase’s frame fell to the floor._

_The anger drained from Meister, replaced with horror. The dagger slipped from his servo and clatter to the floor. He collapsed down on his knees next to the deactivated mech._

_“No, no, no. What have I done? I didn’t mean to! Chase, please come back to me.” He gathered the limp chassis in his arms and started to rock back and forth, placing his forehelm on the other’s crest. His voice cracked. “Come back…”_

_A pained and haunting wail ripped itself from Meister’s vocalizer. It sounded like the spirit’s…_

Hound reset his optics, coming to kneeling in the front hall at the spot where Chase had died, still holding the knife. He grimaced at it and put it down on the floor.

Mirage hovered nearby, looking concerned. “Are you back with me?” He asked quietly.

Hound nodded distractedly. He felt wrung out and wretched. “I saw it. The murder.” He said horsley. It felt like he had been screaming, but surely Mirage would be way more upset if that was the case.

Hound got up, still gazing at the floor as if it could answer his questions. He almost didn’t notice that the noble was holding out a small handkerchief.

He took it, confused.

It was only then, that he realized there was optical cleanser running, unchecked, down his face.

As Rodimus and Rewind set up on the balcony for Rodimus to film an EVP session, they talked about the story Mirage had told them.

“Do you think it’s true?” Rewind asked.

“Prowl looked into it.” Rodimus said, craning his helm and framing up the house between his digits, trying to figure out where to best place the remote cameras. “There were definitely two mechs that lived back then named Meister and Chase. And Meister definitely killed Chase and then took a nosedive off the balcony. But all the little details? No bot really knows. I’m hoping Jazz can talk to whoever is here. Hey, I think this is the angle for our ‘After Dark’ shot.”

Rewind nodded and adjusted the camera obligingly. “Yeah… he clearly saw something. Usually he’s more talkative about it, but he seems kind of, I don’t know… rattled? I’m worried about him.”

Rodimus patted the min-bot’s shoulder. “Aw, he’ll be alright. I mean, he’s Jazz. Nothing gets him down for long, right.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Rewind said with a small smile.

The flame-colored mech sat down on a folding chair they’d brought out and turned on his device. He asked the customary questions and pausing long enough to let something answer. Was anybot present? What was their name? Why hadn’t they passed on?

He wasn’t expecting an answer right at that moment. He’d give the recordings to Chromedome when they were done to see if there had been anything recorded that was too low for cybertronian hearing.

It was peaceful out on the balcony now. Unlike earlier.

Rodimus suddenly felt a cold gust of air swirl around him scented with rust and a heavy feeling of helplessness. Oh, he didn’t like that.

There was a sudden wash of anger, as if somebot had let their EMF flare, unchecked. And then it was gone.

“Did you feel that?” Rodimus asked.

Rewind nodded, optics a little pale.

The show host looked up at the house archly. “I think somebot might not like us being here…”

Jazz sat gingerly on the ancient berth in the master suite. He was holding a picture of Meister in his servo. And he was certain that the ghost he’d seen earlier was Meister. The visored mech vented out, his ventilations wispy and visible in the sudden cold. The smell of rust and mech-blood flooded Jazz’s olfactory.

“I know ya’re ‘ere.”

Out of the corner of his optical center, Jazz saw the red light on the remote camera Rewind had set up blink and then fade, the electrical energy drained away. The camera on his shoulder seemed to be suffering the same fate.

Jazz steeled himself, cycled his visor, and spoke again. “If ya ‘ave somethin’ t’ say, I’m listenin’. I know ya’re ‘urtin’.”

A cabinet door in the old vanity creaked open, loud in the quiet room.

Jazz’s plating rattled with shivers, but he stood and walked over to the vanity. He sat down at the table and opened the cabinet the rest of the way. It seemed to be empty.

_Look closer. Closer._

Jazz, guided by a knowledge that wasn’t his own, reached inside and felt along the back of the interior. A small, hidden latch came loose and the back panel slid open. Inside was a stack of datapads with an ornate, magnetic brooch sitting on the top of them. Curiously, the visored mech withdrew them from the hidden compartment.

The magnetic brooch was old and heavy. Gold filigree inlaid with onyx. Jazz traced the designs.

“Ya wanted me t’ find this. Why?”

_The story. Lies. Read._

Jazz dared not look up. It felt like somebot was venting freezing air on the back of his neck cables. He feared what he might see if he glanced up into the vanity’s mirror. The topmost datapad turned on under his servo.

Jazz cycled his visor. “...My dearest Chase.”

_My Chase. I will have him again. He’s here. He finally came back._

Jazz froze in horror. “Ya think Prowl is yar friend. ‘E ain’t. ‘E’s not yar Chase.

Anger pressed down on him, making it hard to vent. _He is! He is mine!_

“No.” Jazz looked up into the mirror. A golden colored visor filled with madness reflected back at him. The spirit grinned and lunged.

Chromedome looked up from where he’d been fiddling with the mixer board’s settings and started when he realized that a couple of the cameras were showing nothing but static.

“Hey Prowl, I think we’ve got a problem. Cameras are on the fritz.” 

Prowl looked up from his notes and datapads. “What?”

“Yeah, I just realized it. Hang on. Oh slag, it’s the one in the master suite and Jazz’s personal one.”

“Jazz?” Prowl asked, abandoning his research. A feeling of dread that he couldn’t explain suddenly fell over him.

“I’ve got nothing.” Chromedome said.

Prowl attempted to comm the visored mech, but received nothing but silence. He took one look at the snowy static on the screen and bolted for the door, heading upstairs and calling for Jazz. He passed a startled Hound and Mirage on his way.

“Jazz?” Prowl called again as he entered the master suite.

The room was empty. Several old datapads lay scattered on the floor along with an old brooch, Jazz’s shawl and the shoulder mounted camera. On the mirror attached to an antique vanity the word CHASE was written in glowing blue mech-blood.

Hound and Mirage came into the room right after Prowl.

The green mech saw the bloody message and whispered a curse while Mirage recoiled slightly in horror. Hound’s optics fell on the brooch as Prowl knelt and picked up Jazz’s shawl. He leaned forward to examine the datapads.

“They’re letters.” Prowl said, unconsciously rolling the fabric anxiously between his digits. “Letters… between Meister and Chase. Maybe Jazz found these?” He looked around the room as if it could tell him where the visored mech had gone.

"H-he must be in the house somewhere.” Mirage said, trying to regain his composure.

“Yes. Yes, he must be.” Prowl said, mostly to himself. “We can check the other cameras to see if we can spot him. Maybe he found something in these, too.” Prowl gathered the datapads and rushed out of the room back to home base, hoping to catch sight of the visored mech on one of the cameras.

Hound knelt slowly and reached for the brooch that the doorwinged mech had left behind.

“Hound?” Mirage asked gently. “What is it?”

The noble’s voice was far away to Hound’s audials.

_“I had to get something that matched your beauty.”_

_Chase’s voice… but warm. Tender._

_“Any gift from you is a treasure to me.”_

_Meister?_

_White servos affixed the brooch to black chestplates._

_“And with this, I promise to love you with all of my spark, even when we go to the Well. My spark will always find yours.”_

_“I love you, Chase. I wish we could scream it to the world.”_

_“One day, my beloved. Even if we cannot bond, my spark belongs to you.”_

_“You will always be my conjunx endura.”_

_Crystal trees chimed sweetly as two figures embraced._

Hound came back to himself to find optical cleanser running down his faceplates from where he was crying uncontrollably. “They weren’t amica. They… they wanted to be conjunx endura. I-I don’t understand,” he whispered. “They were so happy together. What went wrong? How could it end that way?”

He looked up at Mirage’s anxious face.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a weak laugh, “I know I must look like a wimp. That’s twice I’ve started bawling in front of you.”

Mirage, however, didn't laugh. He reached down and tenderly wiped away Hound’s tears with his digits. “You should never apologize for having a gentle soul.” Mirage murmured softly. “Come. I’m sure those letters will tell us what you already know, but we must find Jazz.”

___Prowl was splitting his focus between the old letters (love letters) and the camera screens. It was so obvious that the two mechs that the stories remembered as amica were actually very much conjunx and very much in love with each other._ _ _

___So why had their relationship ended so tragically?_ _ _

___Hound had already given his account of the visions he’d seen, and while they’d never hold up as concrete evidence, Prowl trusted Hound’s word._ _ _

___Mirage was sitting next to Hound frowning contemplatively, reading the written words and the unwritten messages between them. “It could be that there was some reason they couldn’t be together. They were taking great pains to hide it from their families. Or, well, Chase’s family. All of Meister’s closest relations were already deactivated. I can only assume that noble politics were as vicious then as they were now, but with the addition of honor duels and blood feuds.”_ _ _

___Prowl nodded in agreement, glancing again at the monitors._ _ _

___“Will you concentrate on your “detective work”. Chromedome snarked, “I’m watching the cams.”_ _ _

___“Like you were earlier?” Prowl snapped back, feeling guilty that he’d been distracted and failed to do the same._ _ _

___Rodimus stepped between them and held up his servos. “Hey, we’re all worried, alright? We’ll find him.”_ _ _

___“I’ll watch the monitors. I can start going back over other footage as well, maybe I can get a glimpse of him from earlier.” Rewind put in. “We have some audio from our EVP session, Domey. Would you mind?”_ _ _

___Chromedome muttered, but plugged in the recording so he could analyze it as Rewind took over watch. For a while the room was quiet, then Chromedome startled. “Woah, yeah, we’ve got something. I’ll need to clean it up and enhance it, but there’s _something_.”_ _ _

___Rewind suddenly chirped. “I see him! He’s on the third floor! Sitting room.”_ _ _

___Prowl was up and out of the door at Rewind’s last word._ _ _

___“Woah! Wait! Running off without backup is my job!” Rodimus yelped, following after him._ _ _

___The two of them made it up to the third floor in record time. Jazz was standing with his back to them, staring out of the big window facing the mountainous view at the back of the manor. Prowl and Rodimus slowed as they approached him._ _ _

___Something was wrong. Jazz was standing too still. In all the time Prowl had known him, he always moved to a rhythm that only he seemed able to hear. He was also without his shawl which was still downstairs in the library._ _ _

___One of Jazz’s digits was covered in crystallized mech-blood from a small slash on it._ _ _

___“Jazz?” Prowl said questioningly._ _ _

___“Jazz, you alright?” Rodimus echoed._ _ _

___The mech turned from the window slowly. Movements oddly stiff, visor an off-color of blue._ _ _

___Rodimus took a step back. For as ditzy and foolish as the mech acted, he could also be quite intuitive on occasion._ _ _

___“You’re not Jazz.” Rodimus said bluntly._ _ _

___“Jazz’s” mouth split into a disturbing grin and he started to laugh. He also pulled out a dagger._ _ _

___“Rodimus,” Prowl said, sounding oddly calm, though his EMF was laced with nervous tension, “run.”_ _ _

___“What?”_ _ _

___“Run!”_ _ _

___“Jazz’s” mad cackling turned into a screech of rage as he sprung towards them, or more specifically, at Prowl. He swiped at him with the dagger. Prowl and Rodimus both raced for the stairs._ _ _

___“You promised me forever, Chase!” The visored mech yelled in a voice that did not belong to him. “You lied! I will make sure you keep your promise this time!”_ _ _

___He suddenly stumbled and stopped, denta grinding together._ _ _

___Prowl paused at the top of the stairs._ _ _

___The visored mech looked up at Prowl and gritted out, “Run, Prowl. ‘E ain’t gonna stop.” Then he doubled over as if in pain, jerking and twitching. His helm rose again, slowly, and pinned Prowl with a crazed stare._ _ _

___Prowl didn’t wait. He rushed down the stairs._ _ _

___The house shuddered around him. Paintings fell off the walls. He made it down the second flight of stairs just in time to see Rodimus get thrown to the side and go tumbling into the library. The door was slammed closed, and from the sounds of Rodimus and the others banging on it, it was either locked or being held shut. Prowl tried to open it to no avail._ _ _

___A hard, sudden shove sent Prowl sprawling to the floor in the front hall._ _ _

___This spot…_ _ _

___The spot where Chase deactivated._ _ _

___Prowl could hear the ghost wearing Jazz’s protoform walking towards him._ _ _

_Finally._ Something whispered.

___Another ghostly form raised out of the floor. Transparent, white servos reached for him, through him._ _ _

_Please. May I have your permission?_

___The only other option seemed to be deactivation…_ _ _

___Prowl turned off his optics and let the presence in._ _ _

___Meister/Jazz stopped his advance, sensing the change. Some of the madness left his visor. “What? But.. you were…”_ _ _

___Chase/Prowl stood up and faced the other mech, doorwings spread out regally._ _ _

___“H-how?” Meister/Jazz gasped, dropping the dagger from nerveless digits. “Chase?” He whispered, hope and despair in his tone._ _ _

___“I’m here, my love.” Chase/Prowl answered, “I wanted to reach out to you for so long, but I was so weak, trapped in this spot. And you could not hear me past your own torment. It has been tourture watching you relive our tragedy over and over.”_ _ _

___“What? But, you…” Some of the anger returned. “You lied to me. You denied me. You told me our love meant nothing.”_ _ _

___Chase/Prowl shook his helm. “No. That was the lie. One of my brothers found out about us and they told my creators. If I had not followed their plans, they would have arranged your deactivation. I was trying to save you by pretending indifference. But instead I doomed us both. I’m sorry my beloved. I’ve caused you endless sorrow and pain.”_ _ _

___Throughout Chase/Prowl’s speech, the visored mech’s anger had drained away to guilt._ _ _

___“I killed you. I-I… how could you still love me after that?”_ _ _

___“Because I never stopped. I told you my spark would always find yours. I’m just sorry it took so long.” Chase/Prowl opened his arms to the other mech._ _ _

___With a sob, Meister/Jazz rushed to him and threw his arms around him, words tumbling from his derma. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, my love, sorry, sorry, sorry-!”_ _ _

___“Hush, now.” Chase/Prowl murmured, enclosing him in the circle of his arms. “I forgive you. I forgave you so long ago. Can you forgive me?”_ _ _

___“Yes! Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes.” Meister/Jazz gave him a tremulous smile and tucked his helm under Chase/Prowl’s chin._ _ _

___Soft, golden light filtered into the room and began to swirl around the reunited lovers._ _ _

___“What’s that light?” Meister/Jazz asked in alarm._ _ _

___“It is the Well,” Chase/Prowl said gently, “and it’s calling to us.”_ _ _

___Meister/Jazz clutched the other bot to him. “No! Please! We just found one another. I don’t want to lose you again!”_ _ _

___“You won’t.” Chase/Prowl assured cupping Meister/Jazz’s chin. “We go... together. I promise.”_ _ _

___Desperately Meister/Jazz searched Chase/Prowl’s face. Whatever he found there made a small, joyful smile bloom across his faceplates. Chase/Prowl smiled back serenely._ _ _

___Their dermas met in a passionate kiss._ _ _

___Whatever had been holding the library door closed gave way and Rodimus fell out into the hallway._ _ _

___Two ghostly figures rose out of the frames of the pair of mechs. The figures collapsed down into spheres of light that then merged together. The single sphere then vanished in a flash of golden sparkles._ _ _

___“Holy slag! Holy slag! Holy-if-we-didn’t-get-that-on-camera-you’re-all-fired-slag!” Rodimus yelled._ _ _

___As the flame colored mech flailed in the background, Prowl and Jazz slowly parted from the kiss. Jazz smiled weakly up at the Praxian and then collapsed. Thankfully, Prowl’s arms were still around him and he caught Jazz’s weight, lowering them both gently to the floor. They both started to shiver with cold, plating rattling._ _ _

___Mirage ran around and grabbed some throw blankets and Jazz’s shawl from various other rooms. He and Hound wrapped the shivering bots up. Jazz and Prowl snuggled together to share heat._ _ _

___“Have dinner with me,” Prowl blurted out._ _ _

___Jazz’s visor flickered at him in surprise._ _ _

___“Woah,” Rodimus said. “Prowl, mech, you need to learn some smoother moves.”_ _ _

___“Prowl never had any moves.” Chromedome said disparagingly._ _ _

___“Domey, shut up.” Rewind said sweetly._ _ _

___“I have just had an up close experience as to why keeping in things you’ll regret unspoken is a bad idea.” Prowl said waspishly, unconsciously hugging Jazz closer to him. He looked back at the visored mech. “So, dinner?”_ _ _

___“I’d love t’.” Jazz answered, smiling. He vented in deeply. “D’ya feel tha’? This place feels lighter.”_ _ _

___Mirage looked around, as if he were seeing the house for the first time. A smile crept onto his faceplates. “It feels… peaceful. Like I could make it a home.”_ _ _

___ _

____Epilogue: Several orns later_ _ _ _

___Rodimus slammed the office door open._ _ _

___Prowl frowned. “Windblade-”_ _ _

___“Has no sense of humor and can’t stand my awesomeness, I know. But that doesn’t matter because: CASE!”_ _ _

___Prowl sighed in frustration, though it eased immediately when Jazz slid his servo into Prowl’s under their shared desk. One glance into the blue visor sparkling with mischief and Prowl’s doorwings relaxed._ _ _

___Hound chuckled from his desk across the room, “I’ll just call Rewind and Chromedome, shall I?” He was fiddling with the gold and onyx brooch on his desk. Mirage had given it to him after they’d wrapped up the haunting of Moonstone House. The brooch had seemed to have lost its connection to the past once the ghosts had been reunited, it was now something of a touchstone for Hound to focus on. Mirage also given Hound his comm frequency and was happily horrifying his family by dating the green mech._ _ _

___“Ya gonna give us any hints ‘bout th’ case?” Jazz asked playfully._ _ _

“Weeeellll...there’s a mech who’s convinced he’s being haunted by an old lover after he took a new one. And I’ve kinda _got_ to help because he’s an old buddy of mine from when I was in the foster care system. You guys are going to love him. His name’s Drift.”


End file.
